


Take on the Sky

by LeChatRouge673



Series: Canon Verse Stories and Wanderings [13]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:07:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 21,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23540272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeChatRouge673/pseuds/LeChatRouge673
Summary: A month long challenge for March of 2020 detailing Theadosia's early years, as well as her growth during Origins and Inquisition.
Relationships: Female Cousland/Nathaniel Howe, Loghain Mac Tir/Female Trevelyan
Series: Canon Verse Stories and Wanderings [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/979848
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Ring

The words themselves had not changed in the half dozen times in which she had read them, though now some of them were smudged and diluted where her tears had fallen on the letter. The words were kind, gentle even, and they offered a choice rather than an ultimatum.

_We would never presume to make the offer to your parents without asking you first, Margot. You have raised her; been more of a mother to her than anyone else. Had we been able to, you know we would have taken you as well, years ago, but Tiberius and Adaline would never allow it. You are the heir apparent, and much as we would have liked to have saved you from the pressure and expectations of that life, it was not to be. All we can offer is a promise to give little Thea a better life than what they have._

_We do not doubt your love for her, but you know as well as we do she is suffering under your parents’ neglect and thinly veiled hostility. She did not ask to be born into this world, but they seem intent to make her pay for it regardless. We would raise her as if she were our own, and Cataline would be over the moons to spend more time with her favorite cousin. You would, of course, be welcome to visit as often and for as long as you would like, as always._

_Whatever you decide, we will respect your decision. We will not love you any less no matter what you choose, and we know that, just as we do, you have Thea’s best interests at heart._

Margot sighed, setting the letter aside and resting her head in her hands. She should have felt… she did not know. Relieved, maybe? For the past seven years, she had been a mother rather than a sister to little Thea. While other young women her age had been focusing on etiquette and ballroom dancing and suitors, Margot had been tending scraped knees and reading bedtime stories and wiping runny noses.

And she would not have traded any of it for the world.

But that did not mean things had been easy, for either of them. Margot had made the choice, at fifteen years old, to be the mother Adaline had no interest in being to Thea. She had never once regretted that choice, but she also knew that she had been too young to truly understand what she was doing. And even with all the love and attention Margot gave her, Thea was still keenly aware that her natural parents did not want her. She was preternaturally intelligent and clever for her age, and the older she got, the more she suffered for the neglect and cruelty Adaline and Tiberius demonstrated towards her.

This was a chance. An answer to a prayer Margot had not even known had been in her heart. Her aunt and uncle, Bryce and Eleanor Cousland, were offering to foster Thea. To take her into their home and raise her as their own, giving her the family and life she would never have in Ostwick.

She stood up, picking up the candle from her desk and slipping silently into the hall. When she reached Thea’s room, Margot quietly pushed the door open and peeked inside. Her little sister was sleeping soundly, auburn hair in a ring of unruly waves around her head and a book still clutched in her arms. Margot carefully removed the book and set it on the bedside table, then blew out the candle. Then, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to Thea’s forehead before breathing a soft sigh and returning to her own room. There, she picked up her quill and retrieved a fresh piece of parchment.

_Dear Eleanor and Bryce,_

_I thank you for the impossible kindness you have shown both me and Thea. You are right: we all have her best interests at heart, which is why she and I have made our decision…_


	2. Mindless

Thea was getting fidgety, and Margot could hardly blame her. The first few days of their journey had held a certain novelty for the little girl: she had never been on a ship before, let alone one as large as _The Wave Dancer_ , and she had fallen in love with the ocean the moment she had laid eyes on it. However, long days on board with little to do that would not result in her getting underfoot of the sailors had left Thea restless. Margot had brought every book she could possibly sneak out of the Trevelyan library with her, but at some point even those failed to keep Thea’s interest, and she had taken to mindlessly paging through the tomes without really reading the words.

“We will be there soon, Thea,” Margot reassured her.

“Alright,” Thea nodded, setting her book aside and stretching briefly. She looked at her, and Margot could see hesitation in the storm blue eyes that mirrored her own. “Are you angry with me?”

Margot blinked in confusion. “Thea, why in the world would I be angry with you?”

Her sister shrugged. “I am abandoning you, just as much as Tiberius and Adaline are abandoning me. At least I am going someplace better.”

“Oh, Thea, you are not abandoning me,” Margot reassured her, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “We made this choice together, didn’t we? We talked it through, and we weighed the options, and made our decision, just like we always do when things are not clear.” _Just like I taught you_ , Margot thought. “Besides, you and I can still write to each other, and I will visit as often as I can. You are going to have a wonderful time in Highever; you love Aunt Eleanor and Uncle Bryce, and Fergus and Cataline.”

Thea seemed to consider this for a moment, biting her lower lip slightly. “Do you think they really want me, Margot?”

She managed a smile, even though her heart was breaking. There was more behind those words than Thea was letting on, despite her best efforts to mask the meaning. “Of course they do, Thea. They love you just as much as I do, and it will be good for you to have other children to play with.”

“I suppose,” Thea conceded, her brow furrowing. “But what if they get tired of me, too? Perhaps I can go live in the forest, like a bear. I will eat berries and honey and sleep in a cave.”

Margot could not help but laugh. “While I sincerely doubt Bryce and Eleanor would ever grow tired of you, it is comforting to know you have a back up plan. Do let me know where your cave is, though, so I can come visit.”

Thea nodded somberly, but Margot could see a grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Deal.”


	3. Bait

For all that she had been growing increasingly restless and impatient the closer they got to the port at Highever, Thea seemed remarkably reluctant to disembark from the ship. Her features had settled into a mask that revealed nothing of what she was actually thinking or feeling, a skill she had developed at a very early age to avoid the mockery or derision of her natural parents, but Margot knew her better than that. Thea was afraid.

The entire Cousland family had come to meet them at the pier, and little Cataline looked to be practically bouncing with excitement. She and Thea had always gotten along well, and Margot knew she was thrilled to basically be getting a ready-made little sister and playmate. Fergus was more reserved: as the oldest, he was already preparing to someday take over his father’s role as Teyrn of Highever, but there was an undeniable current of curiosity in his gaze, too. Bryce and Eleanor were standing side by side, welcoming smiles on their faces and quiet understanding in their eyes.

Thea, meanwhile, was eyeing them all warily as though their kindness was merely the bait for an elaborate trap. Margot could hardly blame her, given the life she’d lived up to that point, but she knew this was for the best. So, with a gentle nudge, she prodded her sister down the gangplank.

“Welcome back to Highever,” Bryce greeted them, wrapping Margot in a great bear hug while Eleanor embraced Thea. “We were relieved you decided to accompany her,” he added under his breath so that only Margot could hear. “Eleanor is furious with her sister over this entire thing, and I would prefer to avoid a bloodbath on Thea’s first day here.”

“Agreed,” Margot replied quietly. “Honestly, I appreciate the opportunity to get away for a bit. And…” she took a deep breath, then continued, “I wanted to be here. To say goodbye.”

Bryce nodded sympathetically. “You know you are always welcome here, Margot. She will always be your sister, no matter what.”

“I know. And I know this is for the best.” Margot looked over to where Cat had already taken Thea by the hand and was enthusiastically telling her cousin all about the room they had prepared for her, and all the wonderful things they would be able to do together. “It will be good for her to have a life without the shadow of our parents hanging over her.”

Eleanor joined them, taking Margot’s hands in her own and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “We are so sorry we could not offer you the same chance,” she spoke softly, and Margot could see true regret in her aunt’s eyes. “We would have, in a heartbeat, if we thought for one moment your parents would give up their hold on you.”

Margot offered a small smile. “I know. But someone has to take over the Trevelyan holdings someday. My path was ordained at my birth, but Thea… Thea still has a chance to live her own life. To be her own person. To be happy.” She glanced over to her sister and her cousins and, for the first time since they had arrived, there was just the faintest ghost of a smile on Thea’s face.

“That is the greatest gift you could possibly give me.”


	4. Freeze

Cat disliked having to spend the winter in Denerim. It was colder here than it was back home in Highever, and despite the fires that were kept burning day and night, their estate in the capitol never seemed to truly warm up. Which was why she was utterly perplexed by her cousin’s calm refusal to put on proper shoes or, at the very least, stockings to keep her bare feet from contact with the stone floors.

“That’s why we have rugs.”

Cat threw her hands up in exasperation, which did nothing to faze Thea, who simply continued her sketching. “Your feet are going to freeze,” she pointed out, and Thea just shrugged.

“They haven’t yet. ‘Sides, I hate wearing shoes. You know that.”

“Yes, but… oh fine.” Cat shook her head, then curled up on the window seat beside Thea. “What are you drawing?”

“A bear,” Thea replied promptly. “And not a very good one at that.”

Cat couldn’t help but laugh. Thea was not wrong: whatever was taking form on her paper, it did not entirely resemble a bear. “I see,” she replied. “And why are you drawing a bear, exactly?”

“It’s for Nate, for Satinalia,” Thea explained. “I asked him what he wanted, and he said he wanted a picture of me and Teddy. I told him that was a terrible idea and it was going to look a mess, and he said that was exactly why he wanted it: because it would remind him of me.”

“Ah,” Cat said, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of Thea’s best friend, who had given her the beloved Teddy Bear who was now a steadfast partner in their adventures. “I admit, I have not thought that far ahead. I have not the slightest idea what I should give him.”

“Oh, I could give you a few suggestions,” Thea grinned, a single eyebrow raised in suggestion.

Cat rolled her eyes, but she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Thea was the only one to whom she had admitted her feelings for Nathaniel, and for the most part Thea had been incredibly circumspect regarding that knowledge. An impressive feat for an eleven year old girl, made even more so by the fact that she and Nathaniel were near enough to family that the secret must have been difficult for her. “You are the worst, Teddy Girl.”

“Absolutely,” Thea agreed, then studied her drawing. “Alright, time to add myself to this portrait. Think a stick figure will do?”

“If you give it a mass of auburn hair and blue eyes and an impressive scowl, I don’t see why not,” Cat teased, and Thea gave her a small half smile.

“Well obviously,” she replied with mock seriousness. “If I were to draw myself smiling, he probably would not know it was me. But back to _your_ problem…” Thea frowned slightly, and Cat could tell she was thinking intently. “Why not bake him something? See if Aunt Eleanor will help you make those currant buns he likes so much. I swear I have to fight him for the last one every time he visits.”

Cat wrapped her arms around Thea, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “That, Thea, is a remarkably good idea. Thank you.”

Thea gave a modest shrug, but Cat could tell she was pleased.

“Yes. I have those from time to time.”


	5. Build

For someone who had rarely been allowed anywhere near it as a young child, Thea had grown to love the sea. Now, it was as much a part of her as her own soul, and it was one of the few places she could retreat to when the rest of the world seemed to be too much. There was something to be said for standing on the shore of the ocean, and the way the great, unfeeling waves had of putting everything else in perspective.

This was something she sorely needed at the moment.

She was in trouble. Possibly big trouble. Her aunt and uncle had always given her a great deal of freedom. Perhaps they had even spoiled her a bit. And for the most part, Thea had repaid that kindness and generosity with relatively good behavior aside from the occasional bouts of mischief and the normal shenanigans children usually got into. But not even Bryce and Eleanor’s patience and love had been able to douse the fires of her inherent temper, and no one seemed to bring out the worst of it quite like Bryce’s old friend, Rendon Howe.

Thea did not understand what her uncle saw in the other man. Eleanor had once tried to explain that Bryce still tried to hold on to the boy Rendon had once been, when they had both fought in the wars for Fereldan independence, and when Rendon had been a hero rather than the bitter, conniving politician he had become. Furthermore, Thea could not understand why Nathaniel, her best friend, continued to defend his father even at his most cruel.

Perhaps it was that frustration that had fed into her outburst that day. Rendon was always oh _so_ careful not to make any direct insults to her in front of Bryce and Eleanor, but he had a gift for sneaking in snide remarks anyways. And usually, Thea was able to either ignore them or twist them back to him. She had always had a quick mind, but unfortunately, today her mouth had proven to be even quicker. After one backhanded remark too many about her being an ‘orphan,’ she had lost her temper. She had shouted and thrown things about and used words no thirteen year old lady ought to have been using. More to the point, she had refused to apologize afterwards.

Yes, she was in trouble. Sooner or later, Eleanor would come down to the beach to find her, lecture her, and march her back up to the castle to apologize. She disliked Rendon just as much as Thea did, but there were manners to be considered, and she had raised her better than that. That would be painful enough. What was even worse, however, was that not one person had bothered to stand up for her. Not her adopted parents, not Cat, not Nathaniel. Thea was simply expected to accept Rendon’s poison because it was good manners.

She sighed, picking up a small stone and pressing into the wall of the sand castle she had been building without really thinking about it. It was times like this that she truly, deeply missed Margot. It had been six years since they had made the decision, together, to let Thea move to Highever to live with her aunt and uncle. Thea had not understood at the time how painful that decision must have been for her older sister, who had been the only one to raise her since the day she was born. Nor had she fully appreciated just how often Margot had stuck her neck out for her, using her own leverage and influence as the heir apparent to defend and advocate for Thea.

Margot would have never let Rendon get away with his hateful words, or his small, petty demonstrations of spite. Margot would have stood up for her, and then she would have snuck a few biscuits and a bit of cheese and pear from the kitchen and they would have had a lovely tea party, just the two of them.

Thea sighed. At least, that’s what they had always done when she was little. Now… now she was not certain what to do. When she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, her entire body tensed up, though she did not turn around. To her surprise, it was not Eleanor, but Nathaniel who sat down beside her.

“I’m sorry, Thea,” he spoke quietly. “I should have said something. I do not blame you for finally losing your temper with him.”

She swallowed hard, then shrugged. “Not your fault,” she replied, stumbling over the words as she tried to hold back tears. “If you had, he would have just found a way to make your life miserable, too.” _Margot always paid for her kindness_ , Thea thought bitterly.

Nathaniel shook his head. “I still should have stopped him. I don’t know why he has such a chip on his shoulder when it comes to you.”

“Because I am not afraid of him,” Thea retorted. “I don’t defer to him or his perceived importance, and he hates that.”

“Maybe,” Nathaniel admitted with a heavy sigh, picking up a small twig and adding it to the castle in the sand. “I know it doesn’t really make up for it, but here,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle folded up in a napkin.

Thea accepted the offering warily. When she unwrapped it, she found a biscuit, still warm from the kitchens, a bit of sharp cheese, and a small pear. Despite her best efforts, she finally felt the hot sting of tears on her cheeks. “Thank you, Nate,” she whispered, her voice quavering slightly. “It… it helps.” She split the biscuit and cheese in two, then handed him half. He produced a small knife and helped her neatly cut up the pear.

They sat there together on the beach, watching the waves crash down. When they finished the impromptu snack, he put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned against his chest and finally allowed herself to cry. Thea was still in trouble.

But at least she was not alone.


	6. Husky

He had expected her to be angry. To rage, to scream, to use every swear word in every language she knew. He had expected all that; braced himself for it. This was somehow so much worse.

Where he had thought to find temper burning behind her storm blue eyes, there was instead only a quiet, resigned sadness. “This is not my choice, Teddy Girl,” he repeated quietly. “I begged them to let me stay in Ferelden; to squire at the royal court or even here in Highever, but they wouldn’t listen.”

Thea nodded slowly, almost as if she were hearing the words without really listening to them, and Nathaniel sighed. He had made the decision to tell her about his impending exile to the Marches first, because he had hoped she would be able to shore up his courage to tell Cat. Having to tell Cat… that was likely to break him. All the more so because maybe if he had ever had the nerve to tell her how he _truly_ felt about her, none of this would be happening now.

But it was too late for that, and really, what right did he have to ask her to return his feelings? To promise herself to a man who was considered a failure by his own father and a disappointment to his family name? Cataline Cousland deserved better; he was certain of it. Yet somehow, that certainty was not making any of this easier. Nathaniel looked at Thea, who still had not said anything, then reached out and took her hand in his.

“Please, Thea. Say something. _Anything_.”

His plea seemed to shake her out of her own thoughts, and her eyes finally met his. “What do you want me to say, Nate?” She asked, her voice husky and breaking with emotions he knew she would be trying desperately to repress. “My best friend is leaving the country, and Maker only knows when I’ll see him again. All because your father is an absolutely asinine ass who is too concerned with his precious younger son to see how absolutely amazing you are.”

“Excellent use of alliteration,” Nathaniel noted dryly. He knew how Thea felt about his father; knew just how much she hated him, but he was still his father. As hard as it was to continue defending the man, it was equally difficult for Nathaniel to let go of the loyalty of family. “Thea, I promise I will write to you. At least once a week.”

She shrugged, her eyes falling away again. “Yes. I know. And now, I am guessing you want my help telling _her_.”

Nathaniel felt a pang of guilt in his heart. “Well, yes,” he admitted. Thea was the only one who he had told about his feelings for Cataline. She had, in fact, guessed them long before he himself had come to terms with them.

Thea stood up slowly, as though the weight of the world suddenly rested on her shoulders. In that moment, Nathaniel remembered just how young she still was. Despite the fact she acted and thought and spoke like someone far older, his Little Shadow was still barely sixteen years old, and she had suffered far too much loss and heartache for someone her age. “Thea, I am sorry,” he whispered. “I will not make you responsible for this, too. I will talk to her.”

She shook her head, a familiar stubbornness returning to the set of her brow as she reached for the door. “No,” she replied. “I can do little else to make this better for you, Nate. I will make myself useful, one last time.”

The words struck at his heart. _One last time_.

He prayed she was wrong.


	7. Frail

_Dear Nate,_

_I am not going to apologize for waiting so long to reply to your letter, so put that thought out of your head right now. I am angry, still, and it has simply taken this long for me to be able to cool down enough to compose coherent sentences. And you can save your own apologies: I am not the one you need to be making them too._

_Why, oh why, did you not tell her, Nate? She made the effort to see you off; traveled all the way to Amaranthine and put up with your horrid family just to say goodbye to you. You had a chance to tell her how you felt, and you did not. I don’t understand. My heart aches for both of you, and I just don’t understand. And don’t tell me it is because I am too young: that excuse did not work when I was a child and it will not work now. I am not some frail, swooning damsel that needs to be protected from the world._

_I suppose there is nothing to be done for it at the moment. And I am certain my temper will burn itself out sooner or later; it always does. If nothing else, you will be relieved to hear I am doing my best to moderate myself simply to help Cat cope. She does not need my theatrics in addition to her own pain._

_Despite everything, I am relieved to know you are settling into life in the Marches. Your sudden interest in archery was unexpected, though I am not in the least surprised to hear you love it. Given your focus and tendency towards precision, it is a good fit for you. Probably something your father would never approve of, which amuses me even more. And perhaps you are right: perhaps I should give it a try. It would not hurt for me to have another outlet for my ‘tempestuous energy,’ as Eleanor refers to it._

_You did not ask, but I will tell you anyways: Cat still refuses to entertain the idea of marriage. Another half dozen suitors have shown up in the past three months, and all of them left disappointed (and I tactfully refrained from doing any physical harm to them). At the moment, her protests that she is too young to seriously consider marriage are still holding water, though I fear they will not forever. Many women her age are already married and bearing children, which I find absolutely horrifying._

_As far as myself? Void, Nate, I don’t know. I am still here. Still breathing. I miss you terribly and I am dreadfully bored now that there is no longer the promise of your visits. Catkin is not nearly so inclined to get into trouble, and far more likely to talk me out of any schemes. In some ways, I am utterly grateful Cat is the elder, as she is diverting any talk or attention of my own future. I am still a bit too young to truly be considered as a wife, but the day will come, and I am not looking forward to it. Neither Bryce nor Eleanor will ever force me to marry against my wishes; I know that much, but I also know they worry for me._

_Perhaps it would have been better if I had been the one sent off to the Marches, and you could have taken my place here at Highever. I could spend my days wandering the woods with a bow and a book and generally having a grand time all on my own. Ah, well. I suppose there is no use in wondering, is there? I am grateful for what I have, and keenly aware of how lucky I am. I should not complain so._

_I will end this here, I think. Please keep sending letters, even if I am cross sometimes. I truly do miss you, Nate, and you will always have a home here. And yes, I will be certain to give Cat your love. Take care of yourself._

_Love,_

_Teddy Girl_


	8. Enchanted

“Lady Trevelyan, I must say, you are even more enchanting in person than I was led to believe.”

Thea took a deep breath, trying, and failing, to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “My goodness,” she drawled, not even bothering to hide the disdain in her tone, “A three syllable word. At least you are literate, which is more than I can say for the last man who showed up expecting me to put out for him.”

A flash of shock passed over Ser Morgan’s face, and Thea’s lips curved up in a half smile. “Oh do not look so surprised,” she snorted. “You are not so different from the rest, despite whatever high opinion you may have of yourself. No, do not try to deny it: anyone who comes here with a full retinue of sycophants and has memorized his entire history of achievements in battle is clearly looking to strut about preening like a peacock. Really, if you had heard as much about me as you would like me to believe, you would already know I have no interest in spreading my legs simply because you can wave a sword about. Now, run along and go play with the other soldiers in the courtyard.”

The knight looked as though he had been slapped across the face, evidently not realizing how lucky he was he had not been. He stood there, jaw agape and speechless, until Thea exhaled a heavy sigh and snapped her book shut irritably. “Go on,” she ordered, “Off with you. You’ve done no better or worse than any of your compatriots, and you’ll not be wedding nor bedding me, so stop wasting my time _and_ yours. Go. Shoo.”

Finally, Ser Morgan’s shocked gaze sunk into a deep scowl. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the library where, Thea had perhaps naïvely hoped, she would find some peace. Andraste’s blood, but they were getting persistent, and her patience was wearing increasingly thin. She knew perfectly well the men pursuing her were Cat’s rejects, trying another angle to marry into the prosperous and influential Cousland family. She was also not so much bothered by that knowledge as she was by the sheer fact that she did not like having her reading interrupted.

“Yes, I rather disliked him as well.”

Thea looked up from her book, but this time a genuine smile graced her face. “How did he even make it through the screening process?” She asked her uncle as he took a place beside her on the window seat. He shrugged.

“We have to at least make a show of Cat considering suitors,” he sighed. “At least until Nathaniel comes home. I am sorry they always seem to think bothering you is a good idea, and I cannot say they do not deserve the tongue lashing you give them.”

Thea laughed despite herself. “That is good, as I have not the slightest intention of stopping. I am perfectly happy with the prospect of spinsterhood. I will stay here in Highever or traipse off after Cat to wherever she ends up, or I will simply become a traveling scholar. I will have no fewer than three cats and I will refuse to stop drinking or swearing.”

Bryce chuckled quietly, but Thea could swear there was a trace of sadness in his eyes. “Thea, as long as you are happy, I am happy. And you will always have a home here: you know that.”

She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it briefly and offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“I know, Bryce. I know.”


	9. Swing

“You know, the way you vanished so quickly after you arrived, I had nearly begun to believe you were a ghost.”

Thea looked up from her book then, recognizing the woman standing in front of her, quickly hopped off the garden swing and did her best attempt at a curtsy. A feat made less graceful and effective by her lack of shoes and her already-wrinkled skirts. “Your majesty, I apologize,” she replied. “Had I known you wished an audience with me, I would have of course been at your disposal.”

“Oh, stop that,” Queen Anora laughed. “I have heard plenty about you, Theadosia Trevelyan, and I know perfectly well you rarely stand on ceremony for anyone. I would hate to be singled out.” She gestured back to the garden swing with a delicate wave of her hand, and Thea sat back down before Anora joined her.

“I admit, I am not used to so much… scrutiny,” Thea conceded. “But my aunt insisted Bryce bring me along this time. Said they’ve taught me as much as they can, and now I need a broader picture of the world I am to live in.”

Anora offered her a surprisingly kind smile. “And you are finding it difficult to adjust?”

Thea considered for a moment, then finally nodded. “I think so. If I may be so bold, your majesty, I am not a stupid person. I am generally considered to be rather clever and adaptable, but this… I do not feel like myself, here. So I did the childish thing and ran off to the gardens rather than face the other banns, or you and King Cailan.”

“Theadosia, may I ask you a favor?” Anora asked.

Thea tilted her head in question. “Of course, your majesty. Anything.”

“You strike me as interesting, and I think very much that I would like us to be friends. As such, if you would simply call me by my first name rather than my title, at least while we are by ourselves or with your cousin, I would be grateful.”

Thea offered a small smile of her own. “Deal. But only if you will call me ‘Thea.’”

“Deal,” Anora agreed. “And I can sympathize with your feelings: there are days I wish I could simply pack it all up and leave it behind.”

“You do?” Thea blinked in surprise. Anora had always been the picture of royalty: beautiful, intelligent, poised. It was difficult to imagine her as anything else.

Anora nodded. “Of course. I miss the days when Cailan and I could go on adventures and get into mischief and generally be irresponsible. But,” she shrugged, “I was born and raised for this life. I intend to be the best queen I can possibly be and, unfortunately, that inherently means setting aside part of who I once was. I have a responsibility to my country and my subjects, and I cannot lightly set it aside.”

“I am sorry, Anora,” Thea replied quietly. “I had not considered that. I suppose I really am quite lucky, aren’t I?”

“I suspect we both are, in our own ways,” Anora noted thoughtfully. “Perhaps I am simply melancholic because I miss my mother. She has been…” She hesitated, then seemed to come to an internal decision. “She has been unwell, Thea. The healers have done what they could for her, but…” Her voice trailed off and, on an impulse, Thea reached out and took her hand.

“Can you not go back to Gwaren to see her?” She asked softly, and Anora sighed.

“Not at the moment. We are in the middle of crucial and delicate trade negotiations with the bannorn, and someone needs to be here to keep my husband’s feet on the ground. After all, that is why your uncle came to Denerim in the first place: Seawolf and Steed is the primary point of all imports and exports for the country, both domestic and foreign.”

Thea frowned slightly. “What about your father? Why has he not gone back?”

“Ah,” Anora replied carefully. “That is… that is a bit more complicated. He and my mother, well…” Anora paused again, and Thea suspected she was debating just how much she wanted to trust her. “My father and my mother have not been close for some time. Blame distance, blame the fact they got married and had me much too young, or blame the sheer weight of responsibilities on his shoulders. He still cares for her, in his way, but I think he struggles to come to terms with their diminished affection and her illness. He is in denial, on many counts. He had actually been in Gwaren up until very recently, when he came back for the trade talks. Perhaps he thought proximity would solve their problems, but…” Anora shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Sounds as though he needs someone to kick some sense into him,” Thea said decisively, and to her surprise Anora laughed.

“Perhaps,” she smiled. “Though I suspect it would take a particularly formidable woman to do so. And who knows: perhaps my mother will get better and they will reconcile. Stranger things have happened.”

Thea gave Anora’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I will keep my fingers crossed for you, then.”

Anora studied her quietly for a moment, and Thea could not help but feel as though she were being appraised for some yet unknown purpose.

“Indeed,” Anora spoke, almost to herself. “Fingers crossed.”


	10. Pattern

“That is about the stupidest idea I have ever heard.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Thea knew she was supposed to be on her best behavior; it was her first time at the royal court and Bryce desperately wanted her to begin learning the social conventions expected of a representative of House Cousland. And for the most part, she had been exceptionally well behaved, but for some reason, some _inexplicable_ reason, Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir seemed to bring out the worst in her.

He turned away from the bann he had been speaking with, an impressive scowl on his face. “I beg your pardon?”

Thea tilted her chin up, defiant. _In for a copper, in for a sovereign I suppose_. “You heard me. You raise grain taxes that much, you’ll have unrest in the bannorn at best and outright rebellion at worst.”

Teyrn Mac Tir studied her for a moment, cool blue eyes assessing her. Thea felt her heartbeat quicken in response to what she had to assume were nerves, but she held his gaze regardless. “I see,” he replied, sarcasm heavy in his rapidly rising tone, “And how, pray tell, would you recommend funding Fereldan’s army? Or are you so quick to assume you are safe simply because you are too young to remember the occupation?”

Despite herself, Thea felt a flush of anger rising in her cheeks. “You have not the slightest idea how old I am, Teyrn Mac Tir. Furthermore, even _I_ understand that it will not matter one bit if you are able to pay your soldiers if you cannot keep them fed. You raise taxes on the farmers who supply your grain, and you are going to disrupt the entire supply line.”

The teyrn’s scowl deepened, but he paused before he finally responded. “And who are you, exactly, that you claim the right to question my decisions?”

Thea straightened slightly, trying to make the most of her limited height and hoping to make up the rest by sheer force of will. “I am Theadosia Livia Trevelyan, sister to the future bann of Ostwick, Margot Trevelyan, niece and ward of Teyrn Bryce and Teyrna Eleanor Cousland of Highever, and I claim that right by virtue of the fact that you are being an idiot, Teyrn Mac Tir.”

“An _idiot?_ ”

Thea immediately regretted it. She had no idea why she was being more reckless than usual. Somewhere behind the teyrn, King Cailan was gleefully taking bets on the outcome of the rapidly spiraling argument, and Queen Anora was simply studying her thoughtfully. Finally, she exhaled softly, lowering her tone a bit. “Teryn Mac Tir, I know you are not a stupid man, but this is not good business. You do not know me from manners, but you know my aunt and uncle, and they have taught me well. You must pay your army; I know this, but tax literally anything else other than its lifeline. Void, tax those ridiculous silks your son-in-law imports from Rivain, or the wine out of Rialto Bay.”

“Thea!”

She winced slightly, turning to see her utterly exasperated uncle approaching. He turned to face Teyrn Mac Tir, inclining his head slightly. “I apologize, Loghain. I am sure Thea did not mean any disrespect,” he shot her a brief glance, “But she is still learning to temper her… thoughts and ideas… for a more moderated setting.”

“No apologies necessary,” Cailan chimed in cheerfully. “We almost never get something this exciting on a Monday.”

The teyrn rolled his eyes. “Indeed,” he said slowly, “No apology is necessary. Your niece spoke her mind; I will not fault her for that.” He turned his attention back to her, and her heart skipped just a beat, much to her irritation. “I will… consider, what you have said.”

Thea nodded slightly, then watched as he turned away. As he did so, she caught just the faintest grumblings about cancelling the grain tax. A small, half smile tilted at her lips before she could stop herself. At her side, her uncle sighed.

“You are going to get us kicked out of the palace,” he said under his breath.

“You know I was right,” she protested, and a smile flickered over Bryce’s face.

“You were, and Loghain knows it, too,” he agreed quietly. “Still, there are ways to go about these things that do not involve quite so much shouting, or calling the queen’s father an idiot.”

“I am sorry, Bryce,” Thea replied, and for once there was genuine contrition in her tone. “I promise, I will not make it a pattern.”

He nodded, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and giving them a brief squeeze. “Good. Now, I have some other business to attend to. Why don’t you see if you can find Cat and perhaps sit down for a bit? Your face is looking a little flushed and you sound a bit out of breath. Probably all the excitement.”

“Perhaps you are right,” Thea answered, her tone unusually subdued. “I should probably reflect on this incident, in any case.”

Bryce gave her a nod of approval as he walked away. “Glad to hear it.”

Thea found a quiet alcove and settled on a bench out of the way, her mind racing. The realization had hit her like a stone wall, and was nearly as painful. It was not nerves that had set her heart racing, nor was it fear of reprisal or censure. No, it was much, _much_ worse. She had walked into that argument knowing she was right. Now, she was walking away knowing something else. She was furious. She was exasperated.

She was in love.


	11. Snow

“I suppose it figures they would die in winter,” Thea noted wryly, “Simply so their mourners would have to stand about in the ice and snow.”

“True, though it also ensures no one will linger too long. Everyone will be eager to head off to the nearest pub to toast the memory of the dearly departed rather than mill about a frigid stone chantry,” Margot snickered, and Thea grinned.

She supposed she ought to have felt… something, about the death of her parents. The virulent disease that had swept through the Marches had been indiscriminate in its victims, and though Tiberius and Adaline had held on longer than most out of sheer spite, they too had eventually fallen victim to it. Margot had, blessedly, been spared, and would now be ascending to the title recently vacated by their late father. Thea did feel a degree of sympathy for her sister and the immense amount of responsibility she would now be shouldering, but felt absolutely nothing for the death of the man and woman who had brought her into this world. Just as she suspected they had not felt a single thing beyond relief when they had handed her over to be raised by the Couslands.

Margot reached out an arm to wrap around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I am happy you came home to visit, little sister,” she said quietly. “I know you are far better off in Ferelden, but the selfish part of me has missed you dreadfully.”

“Oh, Margot,” Thea shifted so that she could wrap her in a proper hug. “I missed you, too. I have never forgotten how much you did for me, and what you sacrificed to keep me safe. And even if I did not realize it at the time, I know now how hard it was for you to let me go.”

Margot laughed quietly, then stepped back so she could look at Thea properly. “And I would do it again. You deserved a chance at a better life, little one. Bryce and Eleanor could give that to you. Besides,” a mischievous grin spread over her features, “I suspect our loving aunt will have better luck finding you a suitable match than I would.”

“Oh, you bite your tongue, woman,” Thea retorted, blanching slightly. “I… I think I prefer to be alone.”

Margot studied her for a moment, an all too knowing look in her eyes. “Ah, I see. It is not that Eleanor cannot find a suitable match… it is that you have already found one.”

Thea swallowed hard, her eyes dropping to the floor. “It is complicated,” she finally sighed. “He is… he was married, for one thing, before his wife died. And now…” She threw up her hands in frustration. “I cannot imagine why he would ever see anything in me. I am a second daughter, a stunning disappointment, and a general pain in the ass.”

Margot was quiet for a long moment, and Thea could tell she had said too much. She had kept that particular secret close to her chest for nearly three years, and only Cat knew the real truth of it. She braced herself for the lecture she was certain would follow, but Margot simply reached out and took her hand.

“Thea, you are brilliant and clever and stunningly beautiful and, yes, you are a general pain in the ass, but one who I happen to love dearly and who I know others do as well. The te- _any_ man or woman would be lucky to have you.” She gave Thea a small smile. “Though I assume this means you will be returning to Ferelden sooner rather than later?”

Thea resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief, shaking her head. “I am in no particular hurry. Bryce and his soldiers have been called to Ostagar to assist the king with the alleged darkspawn threat, and Eleanor will be away visiting a friend so-”

She was interrupted by a frantic knock at the door. Margot frowned slightly, but bade the visitor to enter. One of her guardsmen practically tumbled into the room, breathless after having apparently run all the way there. “My ladies, I beg your pardon, but we just received word from Ferelden. From Highever.”

Thea felt her stomach drop. The guard was speaking to Margot, but he kept glancing at her with an alarming amount of pity in his eyes. “My ladies, there has been an attack. Arl Rendon Howe has seized control of Highever. The teyrn and teyrna… they are dead, as are Lady Orianna and her son.”

“Cataline?” Thea whispered. “What of Cataline?”

The guard turned his attention to her. “Disappeared, Lady Thea. Lord Fergus was not there either. He and his contingent of men had already left for Ostagar.”

Thea could not move. She could not breathe. Rage and grief burned white hot in her soul, but still she could not speak. At her side, she heard Margot begin to issue terse orders.

“Go to the stables and have Aurora saddled immediately. Send word ahead to the docks to have a ship ready to sail for Gwaren; I very much doubt it would be safe to land in Highever or Amaranthine.”

“Right away, my lady,” the guard bowed and, after sparing one more sorrowful glance at Thea, rushed off. Margot turned to face Thea, putting her hands on her shoulders and shaking her gently.

“Thea, we have to move, now,” she said, her tone firm but kind. “I cannot leave Ostwick; not right now, not while we are in transition. You must go back to Ferelden and find out what happened. You _must_ go find Cat and Fergus and make sure they are safe.”

“How could he?” Thea finally managed to whisper. “I always knew he was a bastard, but this…”

Margot turned her head away. “I do not know, Thea,” she murmured. “But here.” She stood up and went to her desk, unlocking a drawer and withdrawing a leather belt and sheath from which she took a gleaming obsidian dagger with a silver hilt engraved with the wild steed of House Trevelyan. “This has been in our family for generations,” she spoke. “Father gave it to me, and now I am giving it to you with the sincere hope you are able to dig it into Rendon Howe’s black, miserable heart.”

Thea nodded, her anger finally overcoming the paralysis of grief.

“I will make you proud, Margot.”


	12. Dragon

Thea kept her head down and the hood of her cloak up as she strode through the eerily silent streets of Gwaren. She would not be easily recognized here; had never actually been to the teyrnir in person. The rest of her family had made the journey two years ago for Teyrna Celia’s funeral, but Thea had begged off with a mysterious ‘illness’ that had left the family healer stymied and her aunt and uncle concerned. Cat had covered for her, though; had even taken the uncharacteristic step of helping her craft the lie that kept her safe in Highever. Cat alone understood why Thea would have felt like a hypocrite and a monster.

Now, though, she’d had little choice but to make landfall here. Highever was unlikely to be safe for her, and Amaranthine certainly would not be. Gwaren was the next logical choice. A small, selfish part of her wished the teyrn had been in residence; that she may have been able to seek him out for advice or simply information, but word on the street was that he was still in Denerim, advising his daughter, and had been since his wife’s funeral.

_Probably for the best_ , she sighed to herself. Her life, and her feelings, were complicated enough at the moment. No point throwing more fuel on the fire. So instead she found a small, out of the way inn on the outskirts of the teyrnir. It was just a hair’s breadth above decrepit, but clean enough, and the innkeeper seemed disinclined to engage in idle chitchat. It was exactly what she wanted. Margot had sent her on her way with plenty of coin, but Thea was not looking for luxury: she was looking for answers, and she was looking for discretion.

None of the news was good. Though no blighted dragon had appeared in the skies over Ferelden, the rumors of the darkspawn horde and the threat of a true blight were becoming more and more common and more and more earnest. This, in addition to the disaster at Ostagar. Thea had opinions about that but, perhaps wisely, she kept them to herself. Even in Gwaren, public sympathies seemed to be divided. Better to keep her mouth shut.

The one small glimmer of hope that had reached her from the mass of swirling rumor and hearsay was that the Cousland daughter, her beloved cousin, had somehow survived. She’d been made a grey warden, true, but she was alive. And Thea intended to find her. That was her first priority at the moment. And if Rendon Howe happened to fall across her path in the process, well… better that she should take his life than Cat. Cat, who even now held a steady, unshakeable love for Nathaniel in her heart.

Thea reached for the now familiar hilt of the dagger she kept at her belt. Every night, she tested the blade, feeding it another drop of her own precious lifeblood so that when the day came, she would be ready.

She would know vengeance.


	13. Ash

Thea stared at the map she had spread out over the desk in the rooms she had taken at The Pearl, then sighed heavily before taking another one of her impromptu markers and placing it over a small village in the west. In this case, a stray button was used to mark the location of Haven and the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It was the last known location she had for Cataline, but her cousin would be long gone from that place by now.

She’d had the relative good fortune to run into a man by the name of Brother Ferdinand Genitivi. Once he had been satisfied Thea was not looking to turn in Cat as a grey warden, he had relaxed a bit and been willing to confirm that not only had he seen Cataline, but last he knew she had been alive and well. It had been difficult for Thea to maintain her composure at that point, so relieved was she to have an eyewitness to Cat’s continued existence, but she had managed.

Unfortunately, Genitivi’s news was stale by this point. He himself had been back in Denerim for almost a month, which meant Cat would have been gone from Haven and the Temple for quite a bit longer than that. Genitivi seemed to think she might have been headed to Redcliffe, but could not say for certain, and it would be a long journey if Thea guessed wrong. That, and she very much doubted Eamon Guerrin had forgiven her for the mysterious infestation of wood beetles that had made their way into his bed chambers when the Cousland family had visited the arling several years past.

There were also markers at Kinloch Hold (a small chipped crystal), the village of Lothering (a bit of charred wood), and of course, Ostagar (a smudge of her own blood). Cat had certainly been busy. Stories of her adventures were becoming more and more common in the capitol, and Thea felt both a surge of pride as well as a growing sense of fear on behalf of her cousin. She knew all too well she would not be the only one hearing rumors.

She had considered, briefly, trying to go to Anora. Her heart ached for the grief her friend must be feeling, and she dearly wished she could be there as a source of support and stability in a tumultuous time. Caution, however, deterred her. Thea still steadfastly refused to believe Teyrn Mac Tir had anything to do with her aunt and uncle’s death, but that still left plenty of unanswered questions at his feet. She wanted to believe she would be safe there; wanted to believe she would be safe with _him_ , but she was not stupid. He probably did not remember her from manners and, even if he did, there was no particular reason he would be inclined to help her. In fact, if memory served, the last time she had spoken to the teyrn she had called him an idiot.

Thea exhaled another long, slow sigh. In the room next to hers, business as usual was carrying on. She glanced at her calendar. _Tuesday. Must mean Sapphyre is in with ‘Ser Vice.’_ In spite of everything else going wrong around her, Thea could not help but smile. Some things never changed, and The Pearl was the perfect example. Even in the midst of war and chaos, people still paid for sex, and Maker bless them for it. It was a small, comforting dose of reality in a world gone mad.

She looked back to the map, then pulled a relatively unused piece of scratch parchment from the desk drawer and began making a series of notes; potential paths Cat might take, people she might talk to, people _Thea_ might be able to talk to for information. It was not much, but it was a start.

It was something.


	14. Overgrown

She had to calm down.

That was no small task, even under the best of circumstances, but at the moment Thea’s emotions were roiling and clashing and she felt shaky and ill. The whole point of her coming straight to Denerim had been two-fold: first, it was the best place for news and gossip and, consequently, the best place to try and get information about Cat. Second, she had fully intended to find a way to drive her dagger into Rendon Howe’s black, shriveled heart.

But she had failed. Cat had gotten to him first. Thea had desperately wanted to be the one to take his life, not only for her own selfish revenge, but because she had wanted to spare Cataline from being forced to make that choice. Now, rather than the white hot rage that had kept her going for the past few months, she was left with the cold emptiness of guilt residing in the hollow her anger had left behind. Add that to the anxiety she already felt about the impending Landsmeet, her fears for the future, and her sorrow for the recent past, and she was a damn mess.

Perhaps that was why her initial meeting with Cat’s companions had not gone well. She had been too quick to assume they would be reasonable or, failing that, they would be supportive of Cat and her decisions, especially given the fact she had never asked for any of this responsibility in the first place. Thea’s own joy at being reunited with Cat had been marred the moment she had returned to Eamon’s estate to escort her to the palace. Apparently, word had somehow gotten out that Thea had zero interest in removing Anora from the throne. Worse, to their minds, she had no desire to see Loghain dead.

She had been berated and lectured almost the moment she had walked in the door, and she had lost her temper. The words ‘overgrown man child’ and ‘insufferable circle nag’ had been thrown about, and Thea still could not bring herself to feel bad about that in and of itself, but it added to the guilt she felt towards poor Cat. Her cousin did not need the additional stress. Thea had been more than a little relieved when Cat still asked her to walk with her to the palace district and into the Landsmeet.

Now, there was yet one more obstacle in their path.

“Warden.” Cauthrien stepped in front of them, hand already at her sword though she had not yet drawn it. “You have torn this nation apart to oppose my lord, and never once tried to understand why he is a hero to Ferelden.”

“Cauthrien, you know that is not true,” Cat sighed. “You know I did not want any of this to happen. Loghain _is_ a hero, and I have not forgotten everything he has done right. But that does not mean I must not try and hold him accountable for what he has done wrong, and I think you know that.”

Thea watched in silence as Cauthrien’s hand fell from her sword, her shoulders sinking slightly as she shook her head. “I have had…so many doubts of late. Loghain is a great man, but his hatred of Orlais has driven him to madness. He has done terrible things, I know it, but I owe him everything. I cannot betray him. Please, do not ask me to.”

Finally, Thea stepped forward. Cauthrien peered at her warily, but did not move to stop her. “You do not remember me, do you?”

Cauthrien looked her over, studying her carefully before a spark of recognition flared in her eyes. “Lady Trevelyan. Last time you were here, you called Loghain an idiot.”

Despite the gravity of their situation, Thea gave a small, dry laugh. “Yes, I did. Funny, that those are the only words he probably remembers of me, too.”

“Perhaps,” Cauthrien nodded slowly. “But why are you here? Why do you care about this one way or another? And why do you care if he-” Understanding dawned on her face, and Thea looked away, still unable or unwilling to face what she already knew in her heart was true. “I see,” Cauthrien said quietly, then she breathed a heavy sigh. “Who ever knew that duty would taste so bitter?” she muttered, then stepped aside.

“Stop him, warden. Stop him from destroying everything he has sacrificed so much to save.”


	15. Legend

It would end today.

His life, his legend, his legacy… he was not going to walk out of this Landsmeet alive. Loghain knew this; was ready for it. And if his life was to end here, at least it would be a good death. The Cousland girl, the one who had suffered so much for his reluctant reliance on Rendon Howe, would finally be given the vengeance she needed; that she deserved. His daughter would remain on her throne. He was confident of that much despite everything that had gone wrong, and though he would have liked to have lived to seen the type of queen she would grow into on her own, he knew he had forfeited that right.

Loghain would go through the motions, of course. This was still his country, his home, and everything he had done, he had done for the sake of Ferelden and his daughter. He would not let them execute him before he had said what he needed to say. What _they_ needed to hear. Things were going to get worse for Ferelden before they got better, and they had to prepare. Without him.

Eamon was rambling on about something; Loghain was not truly listening to him. Why start now? But even the scheming arl’s soliloquy was drowned out by the wave of whispers and murmurs that rolled through the hall like a wave as the great double doors suddenly swung open, and Warden Cataline Cousland stepped forward. Her face was pale and drawn, but there was a cold determination in her violet eyes that Loghain admired. At her side was a beautiful mabari hound, an elven man who looked vaguely familiar, and a glowering older woman who, judging by her staff, was a mage.

Yet he knew they were not the ones that drew the interest and curiosity of the crowd. It was the warden they had come to see, and she was doing an admirable job of holding herself high with the grace and poise he would expect from Bryce and Eleanor’s daughter. Loghain prepared to address the warden when a fresh, more voluble, wave of murmurs washed over the assembled crowd.

Only a few steps behind Lady Cataline followed another woman, one he could have sworn he had met before, though he felt as though he would have remembered someone like her. She looked to be a bit younger than the warden, though the two women were clearly related, and her very presence seemed to shine like a star. A memory tugged at Loghain’s mind, and for some reason, it warmed his heart even as he could not quite remember why.

Whoever she was, she was important. She held her head high, storm-blue eyes appraising the sea of people and, apparently, finding none of them worth her interest. Until she looked at him. It was for only a breath of time; a heartbeat of a moment, but she met his gaze head on and for just a moment Loghain saw something beyond her careful indifference. What it was, he could not quite say, nor did he have the luxury of time to puzzle it out. She whispered a few words to the warden, squeezing her arm gently, before allowing Cauthrien to escort her up to the mezzanine to observe the proceedings.

Loghain shook his head, trying not to let his attention be drawn back to the woman with the storm in her eyes. In another lifetime… but it did not matter.

Today, the legend died.


	16. Wild

“It doesn’t bother me, you know.”

Thea looked over at Loghain, raising her brow slightly in question, and he shrugged. “The humming. I noticed you stopped when I looked at you, and I did not want you to think you had to. It was… it was not unpleasant.”

“I am glad to hear it, as it is one of my more intractable habits,” Thea laughed quietly. “I do try to be aware of it, but sometimes I do not catch myself.”

They had been on the road for nearly three weeks, navigating the wilds as they took a rather circuitous route back to Redcliffe. Really, under the most dire of circumstances the journey could be made in a matter of days, but Cataline had been making detours here and there, and Thea could sense her cousin’s hesitance to return to the arling and to face Arl Eamon once again. Not that Cat had ever had much more use for him than Thea had, but there was still an irrational guilt lingering there. And honestly, Thea was not sorry for the slower pace. For the first time since she had left Highever, she was almost, dare she say it, happy.

For the most part, the rest of Cat’s companions avoided her. She and Zevran got on well enough; she actually rather liked the former crow. Morrigan was refreshingly pragmatic for all her mysteries and secrets, and Leliana tried her best to help everyone get along. Even the person Thea found herself spending most of _her_ time with: Loghain. She alone seemed to be willing to ride at his side, or to share meals with him, or the night watch. Thea did not find it entirely necessary to point out to the others that this was no sacrifice on her part, but rather an act of utter selfishness.

“Well, do not do so on my account,” he shrugged, leaning back against the trunk of the sprawling oak they had settled at for the first watch shift. “I find myself less and less comfortable with silence of late. And hearing your voice is a vast improvement over the grumbling of the others.”

Thea sighed softly, reaching over and gently patting his knee. To her pleased surprise, he offered her a small smile in return. “I wish I could make this easier, Loghain,” she said quietly.

“You are,” he replied. “Though,” he hesitated, then looked up towards the stars. “Sometimes I wonder if it was truly a kindness your cousin did, sparing my life. I wonder if it will always be like this.”

The words sent a sharp pain through her heart and, once more, Thea found herself feeling completely and utterly inadequate. The second daughter; the orphan; the disappointment. Why did she ever think she would be enough now? “I am sorry,” she finally whispered, unable to manage anything else.

Loghain looked at her, his expression softer than she thought she had ever seen it. “Theadosia,” he said quietly, “You of all people have nothing to apologize for. You are the one person who has given me the faintest glimmer of hope that perhaps things will get better.” He gave a small, dry chuckle. “Assuming, of course, any of us survive at all.”

Thea gave a brief snort. “I have made it this far,” she pointed out. Then, she relaxed back against the tree beside him, their shoulders not quite touching, but near enough that her heart was racing nonetheless. “It will not always be this way, Loghain,” she murmured. “Someday, hopefully someday soon, you will have the chance to begin rebuilding your life.”

“I have never been very good with tools,” he pointed out dryly, and she laughed.

“Neither have I,” she admitted. “Not that I have ever had much opportunity to learn, mind, but nor have I made much of an effort to try. Still,” her own gaze drifted up to the stars, her mind automatically tracing the constellations she knew so well, “That is no reason why we- why _you_ should not try.”

Her cheeks warmed at the slip her tongue had made, and Loghain’s silence did nothing to help matters. She was nearly ready to offer to make a walk around the camp on her own when he finally spoke.

“I am glad you are here, Theadosia,” he said.

She allowed herself a small smile as she faced him.

“So am I, Loghain.”


	17. Dream

She was warm.

Thea had always run cold, and no one was quite certain why. She did not have even an ounce of magical ability, so those theories were out. Nor had she grown up in particularly sweltering or arid conditions. While it had once given her cause for complaint, eventually she had simply adapted to it and learned to ignore all but the most aggressive of chills. This morning, however, despite the cool whispers of dawn outside, she was warm.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she smiled. Loghain smiled back at her, his thumb running gently over her cheek. “You are still here,” he breathed softly.

Thea gave a small, quiet laugh. “Am I not meant to be?”

He leaned closer, his lips meeting hers. “I was nearly afraid it was a dream,” he whispered against her cheek, and she nestled closer to him. “I did not dare to hope that… that last night was real.”

“Oh, Loghain,” she sighed, pressing a kiss to his chest. “ _I love you_. And I meant what I said: I am not going anywhere. I am yours. Always.”

“I love you, Theadosia,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her a bit tighter. “Though I still suspect your cousin might murder me.”

“She is more like to murder me for taking so damn long to tell you how I felt,” Thea retorted wryly. “She knew, Loghain. She has always known. And no, before you ask, that is not why she spared your life. Or at least, that was not entirely her reasoning. She did so because she knew it was the right thing to do. The fact that it kept my heart from shattering completely was a pleasant side effect.”

He chuckled quietly, then breathed a small sigh of what Thea would swear was contentment. “How long, Theadosia?”

“I- for a while, Loghain,” she replied haltingly. “It was a bit frightening, feeling the way I did about you. I had more or less made up my mind that I would never fall in love with _anyone_. But then I met you, and, well…”

“That day at court,” he said slowly. “I remember now… I knew you looked familiar when you walked into the Landsmeet, but I could not quite remember why. We argued in the hallway at the palace. You called me-”

“Yes, I remember all too well what I called you, and so does apparently everyone else,” Thea huffed, but Loghain just laughed.

“You stood up to me. I respected that, Theadosia. I knew you were someone special, even then.” He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “That is why you did not come to Gwaren with the rest of your family, isn’t it? For the funeral?”

Thea’s eyes fell, and she nearly rolled over to get up but a gentle arm at her waist stopped her. “Theadosia.”

“I am no home-wrecker, Loghain,” she whispered.

“No, you are not. If you remember what I told you last night, I managed that part fine on my own,” he pointed out. “Theadosia, my marriage to Celia… it was what it was. We did care about each other in our own way, but our marriage was the result of expectations and pressures to rebuild Gwaren and to rebuild Ferelden. She was a good woman, and a capable administrator of the teyrnir in my absence, but…” He sighed, more heavily this time. “ _I love you_ , Theadosia. I hope you can believe me when I say that.”

Thea tilted her head up, brushing her lips against his. “I do, Loghain. And do you believe me when I say I love you?”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then the tip of her nose, and then her lips. “Absolutely, Theadosia. So… what are the odds of us sneaking out of this tent before one of the others catches us?”

Thea giggled, the sounds unfamiliar for its rarity but bright in the stillness of the morning. “It is still early. Should we try to go down to the lake, see if we can bathe before anyone else wakes up?”

“The water will be freezing, you know,” he pointed out as she finally slipped out of the bedroll and reached for her clothes.

“That’s alright,” she smiled back at him. “It just means you will need to warm me back up.”


	18. Misfit

Nathaniel took a deep breath as the ogre staggered and finally fell after succumbing to the eighth arrow he had planted in the monster. Dragging his hand across his forehead to wipe the sweat from his brow, he turned to face his unexpected comrades-in-arms. A tallish woman with jet black hair and teal eyes that seemed entirely too amused for their current situation, a Rivaini woman with a pair of wicked looking blades and an outfit that required at least a double-take, an elven man with a series of elaborate and curious silver tattoos that Nathaniel could have sworn were glowing, and his old friend, Anders.

“Thank you for your help, Hawke,” he nodded in her direction. “If I had died down here…”

Ravenna just started laughing. “Oh, I suspect you are about to wish you had, Nate.” She pointed to the space behind him where, stalking down the stone steps of the thaig and looking absolutely _furious_ , was Theadosia Livia Mac Tir.

“Uh oh,” he sighed, then turned to face his cousin-in-law properly. “Thea, I can explain-”

“ _NATHANIEL ADRIAN HOWE YOU ARE IN IMMENSE TROUBLE,_ ” she shouted before he could get any further words out, her voice echoing in the vast stone halls. “ _DO YOU HAVE_ ANY _IDEA HOW FUCKING WORRIED YOUR WIFE IS?_ ”

Nathaniel could hear Ven and Isabela snickering in the background, while Fenris and Anders looked as though they were at least going to make a show of pretending they weren’t there. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled heavily. “Thea, I was sent here by the first warden. There is something very wrong with the lyrium here, and-”

“And do you think I give a single fuck about that?” Thea growled, her eyes sparking with rage. “Cat is on her way here from Amaranthine in an absolute panic because you were not there when she returned from the capitol. And, unfortunately for you, Loghain and I were already on our way to Ostwick to visit Margot, so I got the privilege of coming down to the deep roads, which you know I love oh so much, and dragging your sorry ass back out!”

He rolled his eyes. “First of all, I had it under control.”

“Yes, we only had to save him from _one_ horde of darkspawn,” Ven drawled in the background, and Nathaniel shot her a mutinous look before he continued.

“Second, yes, you’re right, I should have waited for Cat, I just…” he sighed again. “I didn’t want her to worry. You know better than most how much she’s been through. I thought this would be an easy trip, in and out and done. Third,” he eyed her skeptically, “How thrilled is _your_ husband going to be, knowing you came down here by yourself?”

“She didn’t,” a quiet, steady voice spoke up from one of the side chambers, and Loghain emerged wiping his blade clean of darkspawn blood. “However, only one of us can sense darkspawn, and you still had a few stragglers roaming about. Figured I could use the exercise.”

Thea rolled her eyes. “Why?” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “Why is every man in my life a reckless lunatic?”

Ven laughed. “You do seem to attract a type, Teddy Girl. How have you been, by the way?”

Thea brushed past him, sparing him a final baleful glare before she embraced her kinswoman. “I can’t complain, Venna. Montsimmard is growing on me.” She ignored a snort of disdain from her husband before continuing. “And it seems as though you have put together quite the merry band of misfits, haven’t you? I am grateful, to all of you, for rescuing my best friend.”

Nathaniel considered protesting, but a pointed look from Loghain changed his mind, and he simply shrugged. “Perhaps we can continue this conversation back on the surface? Loghain is right: there are still darkspawn down here, and I have what I came for.”

“Oh you had damn well better,” Thea muttered, but she arched up onto her toes and pressed a kiss against his cheek, then indicated the others should follow with a toss of her head. “Come on, you reprobates. First round’s on me.”

“Oh, Thea,” Isabela laughed, planting a brief kiss against Thea’s lips.

“It is good to see you again.”


	19. Spark

Thea leaned back in the plush, dangerously comfortable chair, sipping her drink and watching quietly as Ravenna placed another log on the fire. A brief flurry of sparks danced in the fireplace before slowly drifting up the chimney and into the deceptive calm of Kirkwall’s night. Ven collected her own drink from the mantle, then came and took the seat beside her.

“Thank you for rescuing Nate, Venna. Cat and I are both grateful, as I am sure she will tell you when she arrives. And thank you for letting us rest here for a few days,” Thea said quietly. “Things are not as bad as they were a few years ago, but we still generally prefer to keep to ourselves for the most part.”

“Of course, Thea,” Ven flashed her a small smile. “I can certainly understand that, given my own… life choices.”

Thea gave a small laugh. “Yes, I suppose so. Though I doubt this city will ever let you truly blend in to the background. Not anymore.”

“No, I suppose not,” Ven sighed. “There are worse places I could have ended up after we had to get the void out of Ferelden, but not many. This city has taken a great deal from me, Thea, and I doubt it is finished.” Her smile took on a bitter twist. “It seems as though we are all orphans now, aren’t we?”

“That we are,” Thea agreed, taking another long sip. “I am sorry. I know the pain is… is still raw.”

Ven was silent for a long moment, then gave a shrug and another heavy sigh. “I think I lost mother the day Carver died, if we are being honest,” she observed. “I was always the disappointment of the family, but that was when she truly snapped. Maybe I simply reminded her too much of father; I don’t know.” She looked over at Thea. “But I still have Bethany. That is no small thing. And you, and Cat. And your incredibly reckless, incredibly stubborn husbands.”

“That you do,” Thea agreed with a half smile.

“I assume the inherent attraction to questionable partners must run on the Mac Eanraig side,” Ravenna mused, a small grin lighting up her features as well. “I am honestly a little surprised I did not end up with the red hair, too, though I suppose I did fall a bit farther from the familial tree.”

They fell quiet again, but the resulting silence was more comfortable than it had been before, and for the first time since they had arrived in the Marches, Thea felt as though perhaps things _would_ be alright. She would never be able to make up for the losses Ven had suffered, but at least she could make sure the other woman knew she was not alone; that she still meant something to the people in her life.

Not a single one of them had chosen an easy path in life. Void, sometimes they had not even had much of a choice at all. But they had survived, and they would continue to survive.

It ran in their blood.


	20. Fire

Thea had always felt, perhaps concerningly, comfortable in brothels. It was always a bit remarkable to her how the simple act of treating the workers as people rather than as playthings earned her their appreciation, cooperation, and kindness in turn. She made friends there easily and, more importantly, she could rely on some degree of anonymity there. Even were she to be recognized there was an unspoken understanding amongst the patrons of The Blooming Rose of a mutual lack of recognition, feigned or otherwise.

It made it a better place for her to drink and unwind than The Hanged Man, where everyone knew everyone and gossip spread faster than wildfire. Even as it stood, Loghain had opted to remain at Hawke’s residence rather than venture out with her. Kirkwall was currently a powder keg waiting for a spark to set the whole maker-forsaken city ablaze, and neither of them intended to provide that spark. In fact, now that they had found Nathaniel and reunited him with Cat, they intended to be on their way to Ostwick as soon as possible.

But a summer squall had kept the ships in the harbor and horses in the stables for all but the most dire circumstances, and so they were stuck in the City of Chains for at least the next few days. Thea figured she may as well make the best of it, and had wandered over to the Rose for a drink. To her mild surprise, Cat’s former companion and Ven’s current love interest, Anders, was already seated at the bar, nursing a cup of something strong and doing an impressive job of brooding. Ignoring the raised eyebrow he gave her, Thea took a seat on the stool next to him, nodding her thanks to the bartender as she handed over her usual libation.

“You really have no where better to be tonight, Thea?”

Her lips quirked up in her usual half-smile. “That eager to be rid of me, Anders?”

He sighed, then shook his head. “No. Keeps less pleasant company out of that seat, anyways.”

“Thank you for that ringing endorsement,” she replied dryly, taking a long sip of her drink as she shook her head. “You’ve changed, haven’t you?”

Something electric seemed to flash ever so briefly behind his eyes, but he simply shrugged. “We’ve all changed, Thea. You going to try and tell me you are the same woman you were back when we met in Amaranthine?”

“Of course not,” Thea answered, keeping her tone even. “Though some of us have clearly changed more than others.”

Anders looked at her sharply, the spark behind his eyes flaring a brief, unsettling blue. “Ven told you,” he muttered.

“She told me nothing,” Thea countered, rolling her eyes. “But you are not as subtle as you think, or at least you weren’t when you left Amaranthine. If you must know, it was Cat who told me what she suspected. What she prayed was not true.”

A shadow of guilt passed over the mage’s face, and he turned away. “Cat was more kind to me than I deserved,” he said softly. “She saved my life; gave me a chance when no one else would. It would be a poor repayment of her kindness to bring the full might of the chantry and templars down on her doorstep had I stayed. So,” he peered at her again, “What do you intend to do about it? Turn me into the templars?”

“You know me better than that, Anders,” Thea retorted. “I have no quarrel with you; rather like you, your… _condition_ notwithstanding. Besides, you’re not the first person I have met to be in such a state, and she seemed to manage it well enough. She was an insufferable, nosy, arrogant know-it-all, but none of that had anything to do with her… ‘faith.’ So no, you’ve nothing to fear from me, unless you do something to hurt Venna.” Thea swallowed the rest of her drink, then nodded when the bartender looked at her in question before she returned her attention to Anders. “You hurt her, _then_ we will be having words.”

Anders was silent for a long moment, and Thea could see him waging some sort of internal battle in his mind. Finally, he simply nodded slowly.

“I understand.”


	21. Formal

“He is pacing. Why is he pacing?”

Thea laughed softly at her sister’s observation. “You make him nervous.”

Margot arched a skeptical brow in her direction. “He married _you_ , and _I_ make him nervous?”

“You are my older sister,” Thea shrugged, a half smile tilting at her lips. “I am not certain he is entirely sure what to do with that information. Remember, he was an only child, and his daughter was an only child. I think he is… concerned… that you will disapprove of him. Of us.”

Margot gave a brief snort. “I am shocked you found someone who met your impossibly high standards, little sister, but not by him.” She studied Loghain quietly for a moment, a small smile gracing her features as well. “He adores you; anyone can see that, and he is clearly hopelessly in love with you. And yes, despite everything, I still believe him to be a good man at heart: loyal and devoted and passionate about what, and who, he cares for. Besides, you needed someone who was going to be able to match your intelligence, spirit, and most of all, your sass.”

Thea laughed before she could stop herself. “Fair enough,” she conceded. “He is… he is more than I ever hoped for, Mar. And I love him, more than I ever believed I would ever love a partner. My life is better for having him in it, and I am glad the two of you are finally meeting. So,” she looked to her sister, “Shall we go downstairs and put him out of his misery?”

“Let’s,” Margot nodded, stifling a giggle and following Thea down the stairs. Loghain abruptly stopped his pacing, his posture stiffening as he offered them a careful nod.

“Lady Trevelyan,” he spoke, “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Margot’s smile broadened slightly. “None of that, brother mine,” she retorted. “I hate such formalities under the best of circumstances, and I hardly see the need for them amongst my family.”

Loghain seemed to relax slightly, and Thea smiled as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “I told you, love: she is not nearly as terrifying as I am,” she pointed out.

He gave a brief huff, but when he spoke again his tone seemed more comfortable. “I was _not_ terrified. Of either of you,” he protested, and Margot just chuckled.

“Then you are braver than most,” she pointed out, ignoring the tongue Thea briefly stuck out at her. “I am grateful, Loghain, that you and my sister found each other. You have made her happy, which is something I have long hoped for, and I am in turn happy to welcome you into our family. Such as it is.”

Thea felt Loghain pull her just a bit closer to him, and his voice was soft when he replied. “Thank you, Margot. It is… it is nice to have a family again.”

“Yes, it is,” Margot agreed, and Thea knew there was more understanding there than her sister was admitting. Even before their natural parents had died, Margot had functionally been alone in Ostwick. She had given Thea the best gift possible by letting her go to be raised by the Couslands and growing up knowing a real family, and real love, and Thea would never, _ever_ forget that, but she would also always carry the guilt of knowing what it had cost her older sister.

There would still be distance between them. Margot would have to remain to tend to her responsibilities as the ruler of Ostwick, while Thea and Loghain would return to Montsimmard, and Cat and Nathaniel would remain in Amaranthine. But regardless, they would always have each other. They would always have their love for each other.

They would always be a family.


	22. Ghost

It had been remarkably difficult to persuade the Inquisitor of the need to go to Redcliffe Village. In fact, had Leliana not eventually stepped in and pulled Thea aside for a private conversation, Cassandra was not certain they would have been able to convince her at all. The Seeker was still debating what had been the more ire-raising: the idea of going to Redcliffe Village, or the fact they had been invited there by Grand Enchanter Fiona, a woman Thea seemed to hold in only thinly veiled contempt.

Cullen had been quick enough to suggest going to Therinfal Redoubt in search of the templars, instead. It had turned out to be a mistake on his part, but exactly the catalyst they needed to prod Thea into a decision. The Inquisitor had informed the Commander it would be a cold day in the void before she sought help from the templar order, then begrudgingly agreed to travel to the village and at least hear Fiona out. Cassandra had hoped, naively perhaps, that Thea’s mood would improve on the road.

It had not. In fact, the storm in the younger woman’s eyes had only seemed to grow darker and more tempestuous the closer they came to the village, and when they saw the people who had fled there in search of refuge she had feared Thea’s rage would finally reach its breaking point. Instead, she had simply begun issuing terse orders to the Inquisition soldiers gathered there, doing her best to help as many people as she could as quickly as she could. Underneath the cynical, sarcastic exterior, there was a good heart, and Cassandra knew Thea hated to see people suffer for the stupidity of others.

Now, though, Cassandra was truly worried for her. Because for the first time since they had left Haven, all the lightning had fled from Thea’s eyes, and now she simply seemed very tired, and very sad. She was standing in the middle of the village square, her head bowed and a single slender hand resting on the griffin statue that had been built there following the end of the fifth blight. Despite both Varric and Vivienne insisting she let Thea be, Cassandra approached the monument, making enough noise the Inquisitor would not be startled by her approach.

“You were close to a warden?”

Thea gave a small sigh, but did not look up to face her. “Several,” she finally admitted.

Cassandra considered for a moment, then asked, “Are they still… are they still with us?”

The Inquisitor gave a resigned shrug, her fingers trailing softly against the stone griffin as she slowly drew her hand away. “I do not know, Seeker. And so long as I am tied to your organization, I have no freedom to seek my own answers.” Her eyes squeezed shut. “Too many ghosts,” she whispered.

The admission, obviously a painful and personal one, surprised Cassandra. Thea had been reticent with most of them; speaking little of herself and even less of her past. For once, Cassandra could think of nothing to say. Before she could compose a reply, Thea shook her head angrily, a familiar resolve in her eyes.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she muttered. “And pray Fiona does not try my patience more than she already has, or I may just let Vivienne ‘slip.’”


	23. Treasure

Thea kept her lips tight in a thin line as stagnant water, flecks of mud, and other bits of unknown detritus flew up in a spray around her in time with the increasingly agitated strikes of her blades. Somewhere behind her, she heard Dorian give a small cough.

“Ah, Thea? I believe it is dead.”

“It was not dead the first time,” she snarled through gritted teeth.

Dorian sighed. “Be that as it may, I can safely assure you it is quite deceased now. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I _am_ an authority on such things. Now, you are just dulling your blades.”

“They can be sharpened.” Thea raised her daggers for another volley of blows when she felt her arms carefully pinned to her sides and her entire body lifted neatly from the muck and morass of the Fallow Mire. “Maker damn it, Bull, put me down!”

He just chuckled. “Not gonna happen, Thea. Not until you calm down. You _really_ do not like the undead, do you? You know you’ve got a necromancer at your back at pretty much all times, right?”

“That is entirely different,” Thea growled, but she could feel the blind panic and rage slowly bleeding from her body, and Bull finally set her gently back on a patch of relatively solid ground. “Those corpses are usually… well, fresh. These are decidedly not. They are withered and slimy and _gross_.”

Dorian raised a brow in her direction while Bull did his best to smother his laughter. “You dislike these corpses because they are _slimy_?”

Thea threw up her hands in exasperation. “Yes, alright! I dislike them because they are slimy. And because they seem to pop up out of nowhere like some sort of macabre daisies, they startle the ever living void out of me, and I just hate them!”

“Duly noted,” Blackwall nodded, giving her a comforting pat on her shoulder and shooting a look of warning to the other men, who were still doing a rather poor job of suppressing their mirth. “We do not need to keep going today, Thea. That warden treasure cache will still be there tomorrow.”

She gave her head a violent shake, sending droplets of water flying. “No,” she insisted stubbornly. “I want this taken care of tonight, and I want to leave this maker-forsaken place at first light tomorrow morning. I hate it here. I hate it I hate it I hate-”

“It is alright, Thea,” Dorian replied, his tone no longer teasing. “It will be alright. The lanterns will keep the worst of them at bay, and if we let these two lumbering lummoxes take point, they should be able to clear out any others before they get too close to you if you can drop the unfriendly spirits with your bow.”

Thea took a deep breath, then nodded slowly. She hated falling apart like this; hated being anything other than the calm, composed leader nearly everyone else expected her to be. Only Dorian and Leliana knew why she was truly so fragile at the moment, but she trusted Bull and Blackwall enough to know they would not judge her too harshly for her moment of weakness. She straightened, her features settling into a look of grim determination.

“Let’s just get this over with.”


	24. Promise

“You’re back early.”

At the sound of her voice, Loghain gave his wife a quiet smile as she carelessly dropped her books and papers on her desk before kneeling down beside the tub and throwing her arms around his neck, utterly unbothered by the fact her sleeves were getting soaked. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, tilting his forehead against hers briefly before he leaned back into the water. Theadosia shifted behind him, her hands rubbing his shoulders. “I missed you,” he said. “Your people know what they are doing: it was less difficult than I anticipated to get things set up and working.”

“That, and I am certain the fact the Fallow Mire is absolutely miserable had nothing to do with your prompt return,” she remarked dryly.

He laughed. “More so by the lack of your presence, Theadosia,” he pointed out. “While I will not disagree with your assessment of the region, it was not the swamp that was the most egregious hardship I had to deal with. It was the lack of you. My bed was remarkably cold without you there.”

“Mmm,” she hummed softly, her lips moving to his temple and brushing a soft kiss there before she reached for the soap. “Here, dunk your head for a moment.” He complied, then leaned back again as Theadosia began gently massaging his scalp. “I am still not happy you went in the first place, you know.”

“I know, Theadosia,” he replied. “But someone needed to oversee the creation of Inquisition camps along the new path you opened up for your soldiers. I have the experience and the knowledge and, more importantly, I know what it is like for the men and women under your command. Besides,” he took a deep breath before she poured a cup of water over his head, rinsing some of the soap from his hair, “It is nice to feel useful again.”

Theadosia was quiet for a moment, her fingers still mindlessly working through his hair. “You are useful here,” she finally said, a slight edge to her words. “I should have sent Cullen.”

Loghain sighed. This was a recurring argument, and one his wife was only slowly coming around on. “Theadosia, beloved of my heart, you know there is nowhere I would rather be than at your side. But Cullen is the commander of your armies; not me. I respect that, and it is why it was more appropriate for me to go than to send him.”

Another span of silence followed as Theadosia poured more water over his head. “Your hair is getting long again,” she finally noted, the observation taking him mildly by surprise.

“I suppose it is,” he nodded slowly. It had been years since he had let his hair grow out. Shortly after they had moved to Montsimmard, he had cut it to the length he usually wore it these days. He had never quite decided if the act was a practical one or a symbolic one: a way of delineating his past as a leader and a general from his present as a warden. “I probably ought to get it trimmed,” he suggested, more question than statement in his tone.

Theadosia shrugged as he rose from the water, handing him a towel when he stood up. “It is up to you, Loghain,” she said. “I liked it long, but I like it shorter as well. I will find you impossibly attractive regardless of what you choose.”

“I see.” He secured the towel around his waist, then wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her close against his chest. “Masterful job changing the subject, by the way.”

She gave a small snort. “I am not entirely certain the two subjects are unrelated,” she replied. Theadosia was always clever like that; of course she had known where his own thoughts had gone. “That being said… I know you are right, my heart. It does not mean I have to be happy about it, and I will be reviewing our current officers and leadership to see who I can send out in the field that is _not_ you or,” she sighed and he could practically picture her rolling her eyes, “Commander Cullen.”

“I appreciate it, Theadosia,” he assured her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “So long as you promise to take me in the field with you when you go. I do not want to get fat and complacent like Eamon did.”

That did earn him a small giggle, and she did not protest when he slipped his hands beneath her blouse, rubbing the small of her back as he used his other hand to pull the garment up over her head. “I suspect we would manage that simply by staying in the bedroom,” she countered, “But you know damn well there is no one I would rather have by my side. If I leave this castle, it will be with you. I promise.”

“Likewise, love of mine,” he murmured, tilting her chin up and meeting her lips with his before scooping her up in his arms and carrying her towards their bed.

“And… perhaps I will let the hair go a bit longer.”


	25. Ancient

“Dorian, have you seen my husband?”

He looked up from his book, trying and failing to suppress a smile. “I believe he is in the garden with the commander.”

Thea’s eyes widened and she immediately dashed from the library, flying down the stairs with Dorian close behind her. “I doubt they are going to damage each other, Thea. Cullen learned his lesson after that first incident when you verbally flayed him when the two of you returned from Crestwood.”

“That’s not what concerns me,” she muttered, her footsteps echoing rapidly off the ancient stone floors. She threw open the door leading to the garden, where her worst fear was realized. There, sitting across from each other and studying a game board intently, were her husband and Cullen. And they were playing chess.

“Oh maker _damn it_ ,” she sighed. “I was afraid of this.”

“It is just a friendly game,” Dorian pointed out, and Thea shot him a brief glare.

“Exactly,” she retorted dryly. “Which means it may be hours before I have either of their full attention.” She approached the table, and neither man so much as glanced at her. Dorian followed with barely suppressed glee. “Having fun, gentleman?”

“I am,” Loghain confirmed, “It is good to play again, especially against a skilled opponent.”

“What, you mean to say your lovely and talented wife never plays?” Dorian asked with a false air of innocence, and Thea resisted the urge to give the mage a swift kick to the shin. Dorian knew damn well just how hopelessly bad she was at the game.

Loghain gave a brief snort of amusement. “Theadosia is the most brilliant woman I know, but she has never liked, nor had an affinity for, the game.”

“‘Theadosia’ is standing right here,” she snapped, and Loghain finally looked up to meet her eyes.

“And you disagree with my assessment?” He asked with annoying calm. “You will be the first to admit you have no love for the game.”

“Not the point,” she muttered, her gaze falling to the ground in a pout. Her lack of skill at the game had always been a bit of a sore point, and it had always disappointed her more than she cared to admit that she had never proven to be much of a challenge for her husband when it came to chess. “I… I am pleased you have found someone with whom to play. Enjoy your game, gentlemen. I will leave you to it.”

Thea turned to walk away, but before she had gotten more than a few steps Loghain had stood, closed the distance between them, and wrapped her in his arms before pressing his lips to hers in a long, soft kiss; the kind that left her weak and seeing stars. They had both grown remarkably more willing to demonstrate affection in public, and she could not even pretend she was upset about it. “Theadosia, sweetheart,” he murmured against her ear, “You know I did not mean offense.”

“I know,” she agreed quietly, resting her head against his chest. “And I meant it when I said I am glad you found someone who loves the game as much as you do. It is… it is good to see you making friends.”

“I suppose I am, at that,” Loghain agreed, his tone thoughtful as he gently stroked her hair. “Though I fear I stand no chance against the commander with you here to distract me. But I promise, I will be more than happy to explore some of your… talents… tonight. Perhaps after our evening reading session.”

His words, and the warm undercurrent beneath them, brought a small smile to her lips. “I think that is more than a fair trade,” she agreed, arching up onto her toes to brush a kiss to his cheek. “Go. Have fun. And while you’re at it, you might take on Dorian, next.” She glanced over to her friend, a disarming smile on her lips that she knew he recognized for what it was.

“It would be good lesson in humility.”


	26. Taste

His desire to drink himself into oblivion outweighed his desire to remain in self-imposed solitary confinement.

Though The Herald’s Rest was bustling, he sat alone at the bar, the other patrons giving him more than a wide berth. The conversation had devolved into a flurry of whispered, and some not so whispered, words as soon as he entered. Not that it bothered him one way or another: he knew he deserved their scorn and judgement. He drained the last of his lager and was prepared to turn and leave when a fresh mug was placed in front of him, and he was joined at the bar by a now familiar figure.

“At least you have a decent taste in beer,” Warden Mac Tir observed, and Thom Rainier, formerly the false Warden Blackwall, was momentarily taken aback. Finally, he shrugged, taking a swig of the proffered drink.

“Spent enough time in taverns I suppose I ought to,” he replied uncertainly, and Loghain gave a brief snort of laughter. “Surprised you’re willing to be seen talking to me,” he added, and the warden raised a skeptical brow in his direction.

“Are you _really_ going to play that card with me?” He asked, though his tone was not unkind.

Thom sighed. “It’s different,” he argued. “What you did… you did it out of love for your home. To protect your daughter. At least _your_ intent was honorable, even if not all of your actions were. What I did… what I did was for nothing more than coin.” He could taste the self-disgust in his words; could feel the shame burning him up from the inside, but he continued through it. “I did not deserve the Inquisitor’s forgiveness. I sure as the void did not deserve to keep my head after what I did. The lies I told.”

Loghain was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Theadosia always knew you were not who you said you were,” he pointed out. “She decided to trust you anyways.”

“That much is painfully obvious, now,” Thom noted dryly. “Wonder what her first clue was?”

The warden did laugh then. “About the time you informed her the best way to kill an archdemon was to poke it with a sword until it was dead.” Then his expression grew serious, and his tone took a darker turn. “Theadosia understands better than almost anyone else exactly what price had to be paid that day,” he said quietly. “Regardless, even with that knowledge she saw something in you she knew she could rely on. Given how reluctant she is to trust _anyone_ , that is not insignificant.”

They were both silent for a moment, drinking their beers and each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Thom spoke up. “Your wife is a remarkable woman, Loghain,” he said, and a small but warm smile lit up the other man’s face.

“That she is,” he agreed, his voice soft. “And as much as she may not have wanted any of this, she has risen to the challenge. She always does. And as painful as it was for me to be away from her, and as much as it broke my heart to not be able to send her word, it was made at least a bit easier knowing she had good people by her side. Including you, Thom.”

Thom was not certain how to respond to that, so he simply nodded and took another drink. Loghain seemed to understand; void, was probably the only person who really did, and simply sat there with him in companionable silence.

Maybe there was hope for him yet.


	27. Dark

“Telling me ‘it got really cold, really fast,’ is not an answer to my question,” Thea growled, stalking back and forth in the limited space of their tent. A neat trick of Dorian’s with a series of well-placed fire runes kept the interior space warm and cozy in a sharp contrast to the bitter cold outside, but she _still_ had not managed to warm up properly following the initial foray into the Emprise du Lion. “I could have puzzled that much out on my own.”

“Be that as it may, sweetheart, I do not think Harding had a better answer for you,” Loghain replied, his voice calm as he carefully ran a cloth along his blade. “It is rare, but such things do happen. And even if it _was_ the result of some sort of manipulation by Corypheus, what does that change? We still would have had to come out here to deal with it one way or another and, yes, there is still a not insignificant chance we would have had to contend with less than ideal weather.”

Thea rolled her eyes. Her husband was right. She knew he was right. But that knowledge was not making her any less irritable or any less cold. “Why could he have not set up this operation in the spring?”

“I will take snow over mud any day,” Loghain shrugged, setting aside his sword and reaching his arms out to her. She gave a short huff, but still stepped towards him and let him wrap his arms around her waist. He held her there for a moment, then asked, “Theadosia. What is really bothering you?”

She sighed, and slipped onto his lap before resting her head against his. “I keep thinking it cannot get any worse,” she whispered, struggling to keep the tremor from her words. “With every new abomination, I think it is the most horrific thing that can be thrown at me. And I keep being proven wrong.”

“Oh, Theadosia,” Loghain held her a little closer. “I know. And it is not fair you should have to see any of this. If I could have shielded you from it-”

“I know,” she cut off the rest of his words with a firm kiss to his lips. “But this is my responsibility, Loghain. These people have trusted me. I have to… I have to at least _try_.”

He stood up, gently lifting her in his arms before laying her down on their cot and then taking his place beside her. He placed his hand against her cheek, his thumb brushing aside the tears she had not even realized she had shed. “You have done a sight more than ‘try,’ Theadosia,” he assured her. “Even more so for having never been trained as a soldier.”

“You would have done better,” she muttered, burying her face against his shoulder, and he chuckled quietly.

“Doubtful,” he retorted. “Have you once heard me question one of your decisions, even when we are alone?”

Thea exhaled softly. “No,” she admitted, “And I trust you enough to know you would if you had felt the need.”

“Exactly.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead before he rolled back up off the cot, turning and offering her a small smile when she made a noise of protest. He began removing his clothes and neatly folding them and setting beside the armor he had already abandoned earlier in the evening.

Despite herself, Thea felt a small smile tilting at her lips as she moved to remove her own numerous layers of clothes. “And what, exactly, do you think you are doing?”

Loghain gave her a deceptively innocent shrug. “The one thing no one else in the camp can do for you: help you relax and forget your responsibilities for a little while.”

Thea laughed then, her dark mood fleeing in the face of the light that was his love for her. She tossed her shirt in his general direction.

“Best get to it then, my heart.”


	28. Coat

“I fucking _hate_ corpses.”

Thea had managed to hold herself together until her other companions had begun making their way back to the closest camp in the Emerald Graves before emptying her stomach contents into the formerly well-manicured shrubbery lining the courtyard of the abandoned chateau. She had not been thrilled about entering in the first place, but curiosity had overwhelmed her common sense and now she was paying for it. The arcane horror that had taken possession of the poor girl that had once lived as a virtual prisoner within the gilded walls had at least had the decency to be in possession of a particularly valuable amulet, if Dorian was to be believed, but Thea was still not happy that she’d had to stumble through a dark manor infested with undead in order to acquire it.

Loghain rubbed her back slowly as she retched, waiting patiently until she managed to straighten her back before handing her a flask of water, then some mint leaves. She took the offered herb, chewing it aggressively before rinsing her mouth again and spitting it out with more vehemence than was probably warranted. “I know, sweetheart,” he replied, keeping his tone soft and level. “I admit, they are not my favorite.”

She tucked the now empty flask into the pouch on her belt, exhaling a long sigh. “Serves me right,” she muttered. “Could have just left well-enough alone; let that horror be the problem of whatever robbers or would-be owners came along next.”

He gave a dry chuckle. “Perhaps. Next time you find an obscure treasure map leading to an abandoned manor in the middle of a forest, I will remind you of this. Think you can make it out alright?”

“I am not _that_ feeble,” Thea grumbled, but the trembling in her legs gave lie to her words, and she was not too proud to refuse the arm he wrapped around her waist. She had more or less stumbled to the doors leading back into the, hopefully now empty, chateau when there was a soft rustle in the bushes behind her. Without hesitation, her blades were in her hands and Loghain was at her back, his own blade drawn. When there was not further noise forthcoming, they softly crept closer.

Loghain met her eyes, then nodded slowly before he carefully approached the brush. With a single, decisive motion he moved the branches and leaves aside, revealing a very emaciated, very wary mabari hound with a grey, almost black, coat. Thea saw her husband’s expression change rapidly from wariness to surprise to something almost sad. “Poor thing,” he murmured, kneeling down and reaching into his pack. “She’s probably been here since the rest of the family was murdered by the demon. Can’t be more than a year or so old; must have been just a pup when they brought her here. Damn Orlesians.”

He produced a bit of dried meat and held it out as an offering to the dog, who sniffed it briefly before eagerly gobbling it up. She emerged from the underbrush before sitting in front of Loghain, her tail wagging slightly and her head tilted to one side in curiosity. He reached a hand out and gave her an affectionate rub on the head, earning him a pleased doggie grin. “We can’t leave her here, Theadosia,” he said, looking up at her with something akin to a plea in his eyes.

“Loghain, are you certain she is not… you know..?”

He raised a brow in her direction. “You think the dog is possessed?”

She threw up her hands. “I told you about that ram in the hinterlands, yes? I am still not convinced I should not have killed the damn thing.”

“Then we should take her back to camp and ask Dorian,” Loghain countered. “Theadosia, look at her. The poor thing is starving, and at the very least we should take her back to Ferelden, to her homeland. She deserves that much.”

Thea squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. The mabari was now gleefully rolling on her back as Loghain rubbed her belly, and there was a light in her husband’s eyes that she knew damn well she could not be responsible for extinguishing. “Alright, ground rules,” she finally sighed. “She is not sleeping in the damn bed. I already have to contend with the cats, and I am not sacrificing any more of my sprawling space. You ever want to have sex again, you train her to stay on her own cushion. Second, you are going to have to train her not to harass the girls for her own safety. They have claws and they have attitudes.”

Loghain stood up and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his mouth to hers and kissing her with the type of intensity that left her seeing stars and would have gotten him absolutely anything if he had thought to ask it of her. “You actually mean it, don’t you? We can keep her?”

“You’d best come up with a name,” Thea replied, a small smile tilting at her lips, offering her hand for the mabari to sniff and getting an enthusiastic lick in return. “And I mean it: she gets her own bed. You Fereldans may not mind sharing your beds with your hounds, but my Marcher sensibilities prefer not to.”

“Deal,” Loghain agreed, kissing her again, then patted his side and gave a toss of his head to the hound, who immediately stood up and began following them back through the house. “I am grateful, Theadosia,” he said quietly. “It has been… I have not had a mabari since…”

“Since Adalla,” Thea finished for him softly, lacing her fingers with his even as his free hand rested on the dog’s head. “I know, love. You deserve a companion again. Besides, she seems to have become rather attached to you already.”

“Probably the dried meat still in my pocket,” he retorted dryly. “We will need to get her a proper meal when we get back to camp.”

“We can do that,” Thea assured him. “So… thought of a name?”

Loghain was quiet for a moment. “She needs a good Fereldan name,” he finally said. “What do you think of ‘Ava’? Simple, but strong.”

Despite herself, Thea smiled.

“I think it’s perfect.”


	29. Ride

“You know, it is not so bad by moonlight.”

Thea tilted her head up to look at her husband, skepticism written clearly on her features. “I absolutely hate this place,” she replied flatly. “I have aches in muscles I did not even know I _had_ from all the climbing and jumping I have had to do in this maker-blighted desert. It makes me miss the Emprise, and you know how enthused I was about riding around in all that snow and ice.”

Loghain reached out and rubbed the small of her back with a small noise of sympathy. “I admit I have never been good at it, but aren’t oases supposed to be… I don’t know… romantic or some such nonsense?”

Thea gave a short bark of laughter. “I would be more impressed if, first of all, it had not been previously used as a giant’s bathtub and, second of all, it were not surrounded by a cave system absolutely _riddled_ with bloody giant spiders.” She gave an involuntary shiver, and did not even pretend to protest when Loghain wrapped her in his arms. “And what the void do you mean, you are no good at that sort of thing? This from the man who always sees to it that I have my coffee first thing in the morning, even if he has to get up and make it himself, and who always leaves me armfuls of fresh flowers on my birthday and our anniversary, or who-”

The rest of her list was cut off as his lips met hers, and for a moment Thea simply allowed herself to be lost in their kiss; in them. When they parted, she gave a soft sigh and settled back against his chest, allowing her attention to drift upwards towards the night sky. “I suppose it is not all bad,” she conceded. “The stars are so clear out here; even more so than in the mountains. I feel as though they go on forever.”

“Do they?” He asked, his tone deceptively nonchalant. “I had not noticed. They seem a poor comparison to what is in front of me.”

She laughed then, and arched up onto her toes to press another kiss to his lips. “Were you not _just_ informing me that you lacked any sort of romantic inclinations?”

“I hardly think you can count that against me,” he replied with mock offense, “As I was simply stating the obvious. That being said,” Loghain tilted his own head upwards, his gaze scanning the night sky above them, “It is beautiful. Nothing compared to my guiding star, of course, but beautiful in its way.”

Thea could not help but smile as she nestled her head closer to his shoulder. “You give me too much credit, my love. My only.”

“Never, beloved of my heart,” he whispered. “But I will always try to at least give you enough. Now,” he took her by the hand, “We should probably consider calling it a night. That old, spooky temple is not going to explore itself.”

Thea groaned.

“Think there will be more spiders?”


	30. Injured

“And I assume, Warden Mac Tir, you will be with the Inquisitor in the field?”

At Thea’s side, Loghain gave a brief nod in Josephine’s direction. “Of course.” They were studying the frustratingly vague map of the arbor wilds he had spread out over the war table and discussing the upcoming incursion into the relatively uncharted area. He reached out and moved two of Cullen’s markers into a different position. “I would recommend focusing on these chokepoints rather than the ones you’ve currently marked, but I will of course defer to your decision.”

Thea resisted the urge to smile. It was the exact same suggestion she would have made, and it always pleased her to know she had come to the same conclusion as her husband. She had always had a quick mind, but he was the greatest tactician she had ever known, even accounting for her own not-insignificant bias. Across the table, Cullen nodded in agreement.

“Good point. I would still like to have a token force at the other spots, but the wilds are essentially one massive series of chokepoints. We need to be selective in where we set them up. So perhaps station Leliana and her people here,” he pointed to one of the markers, “And then the mages here?”

“I want some of our people with Fiona at all times,” Thea added, more venom in her tone than was probably strictly necessary. “I trust most of the mages, but I will be damned if I trust her.”

“Understood,” Leliana acknowledged. “I will see to it that we have trusted agents in place amongst her people.”

Loghain let out a small breath beside her, and Thea brushed her fingers briefly against his beneath the table. Neither of them liked or trusted Fiona as far as they could throw her, but Leliana’s assurances were comforting. “Then, at least from my perspective, we have done all we can do,” Loghain shrugged. “All plans are in flux in the field anyways, so-”

“Warden!” Josephine’s eyes had widened slightly as she pointed at a spot on his shoulder that had been exposed with his shrug. “You are injured! What on earth happened?”

Loghain stared at her in confusion, but Thea could see exactly what Josephine was referring to as the other woman bustled around the table. Despite her husband’s obvious growing discomfort, Thea was finding it difficult not to laugh, and she could not stop the snort that escaped when Josephine studied the ‘injury’ closer.

“We should call for a healer. It almost looks as though… Andraste’s mercy, are those _bite_ _marks_?”

Across the table, Leliana was wearing her usual mask of serene calm, but a glint of amusement was sparkling in her eyes. Meanwhile, Cullen was snickering behind his hand, and Thea could not help but flash them a grin. Loghain sighed, gently setting the ambassador’s hands aside. “I assure you, Ambassador, I am fine, though I appreciate your concern. It is nothing a bit of elfroot salve, and,” he raised a brow in her direction, “A bit more caution, will not cure.”

Josephine’s brow furrowed in confusion, but she seemed to accept his reassurance. “I believe that will be all,” Thea spoke up, still struggling to suppress her own smile. “I will issue final orders tomorrow morning, so you might put the word out to the soldiers that this is their last night to get good and drunk.”

Cullen gave her a nod and a subtle wink before he and the other advisors filed out of the room, leaving Thea alone with her husband. He looked at her and, despite the minor embarrassment, there was a small smile tilting at his lips. “Really, Theadosia?”

“Should I apologize?” She asked, her tone warm and tempting and utterly unapologetic as she slipped into his arms, her lips brushing against the spot in question. “I admit, I am usually better about making sure our more… enthusiastic… sessions are not so obvious.”

He gave a brief snort. “An apology would require any sort of contrition on your part, you impossible woman.” He tilted her chin up so that she was facing him. “Besides, it was… it was well worth it, sweetheart.” His lips met hers, and Thea felt her entire body heating up beneath his touch.

“I am hardly the only ‘impossible’ one, my love,” she murmured against his cheek, humming slightly as his hand slipped beneath her blouse and rubbed the small of her back. “You should not be teasing me so. I still have at least three more meetings this afternoon and I still need to review our supplies inventory for the journey, and-”

The rest of her list was silenced by another deep, lingering kiss that left her seeing stars in the best possible ways. “I am simply giving you something to look forward to,” Loghain whispered, his tone nearly enough to send her spiraling all on its own. “And to encourage you to actually get to bed at a reasonable hour.”

Thea gave him a playful smack on the chest, but she laughed. “Oh, alright,” she conceded. “Promise me you’ll be waiting for me?”

He dropped a final kiss on her head before they finally left the war room.

“Always, Theadosia.”


	31. Catch

The celebrations had gone on all night. Even now, with the sunrise just beginning to creep over the Frostbacks, there were the sounds of giggling couples and inebriated revelers drifting through the cool, clear air of morning from the direction of the courtyard and the Skyhold gardens. Thea did not begrudge them their joy: there was, after all, a great deal to celebrate. Corypheus had been defeated, and with his death his armies had crumbled. Reports had almost immediately begun flooding in of victories on various fronts, the Inquisition forces positively routing the red templar and venatori troops.

She had never been much one for celebrating, though, and when Loghain had quietly suggested they retreat back to their room to ‘catch their breath,’ she had readily agreed. Of course the result had left her rather breathless, therefore rendering his initial suggestion moot, but she was certainly not complaining. Now, she was standing on her balcony wearing nothing but a blanket around her shoulders, leaning against her husband’s side as they both stared out over the valley.

“There is still so much work to do,” she sighed quietly, and Loghain’s arm pulled her closer against his chest.

“There is,” he agreed, “And I cannot promise it will be easier. Rebuilding what was lost, and realizing what cannot be replaced, is often the more difficult task.”

Thea let her head fall against his shoulder. “At least I have the benefit of your experience,” she remarked dryly. “Did you ever really forgive Maric for dumping Gwaren in your lap and wishing you the best of luck?”

Loghain gave a brief snort. “It was not the most aggravating thing he did after the war,” he retorted. “But yes: you will have me at your side, every step of the way. I will not be parted from you, Theadosia. Not again. And Skyhold is not so bad, really. I know you miss the sea, or even Lake Celestine, but perhaps now we will be able to travel a bit more. On our own terms.”

“Mmm,” she hummed in agreement. “I would like that. I think we deserve a bit of a rest, don’t we?”

They stood there quietly for a moment, lost in their own thoughts and simply in each other. “I am glad you are here, love,” she finally spoke, her words soft. “We have been through so much together, but… but it is easier with you with me. Knowing you love me.”

“Likewise, Theadosia,” Loghain answered quietly, gently turning her so that she was facing him and he could carefully tilt her chin up towards his gaze. “I love you. You are my heart, and my home. No matter where we end up, I will be content so long as I am with you.” He leaned down and his lips met hers, and in that moment Thea was at peace. So much so that she very nearly did not voice the next thought that came into her mind.

“Think they’ve noticed we disappeared?”

“You, certainly,” he laughed. “Me, not so much. Though clearly they were smart enough not to send someone after you.”

“They would have had to pick the lock,” Thea deadpanned. “Sera is not that stupid, and Varric has a healthy sense of self-preservation.”

He bent down and brushed another kiss to the top of her head. “In that case…” he took her by the hand and guided her back into their room.

“We may as well take advantage of this time to ourselves.”


End file.
